Vilhelm of Whiterun
by Vlad509
Summary: The adventures of a Nord Dragonborn set in a fusion of 1940s technology and fantasy. Right now, it only includes the mission Diplmatic Immunity, but it may expand to other missions in the future.
1. Chapter 1

Diplomatic Impunity

Vilhelm bodily shoved Etienne out of the hole and into the street. He climbed up after him, and then pulled Lydia out behind him.

"Well, my thane, it seems that as expected, quiet is not one of your strong points."

"With this must testosterone, it's hard to be stealthy. Now, I think we should be going before those pointy eared thugs show up. Do you need a ride there, Etienne?"

"It would be most appreciated, my good man. Thanks for pulling me out back there. Bad luck about that other chap though."

"I didn't know him long, and I don't think he really liked me, but he was a good elf."

"My thane, we have company!" interrupted Lydia. Vilhelm turned and saw two Thalmor in their rather pretentious looking armor. One raised his arm, and a shard of ice formed in the air. Etienne took off like a jackrabbit. The shard flew overhead, and crashed into a wall, sending shards of ice raining down. Vilhelm raised his gun and fired a couple rounds, but they both went high, though the Thalmor ducked. The was sure to be more coming.

About that time, a truck drove by, the gray scheme and insignia designating it as an Imperial truck.

"Get in," shouted a blonde haired Breton. The truck didn't really stop, but kept rolling down the hill, towards the gate of the Thalmor complex.

"Well, the dame finally showed up. You first Lydia, I'll cover you." Lydia nodded, and managed to get into the truck, with some struggling. Vilhelm raised his arm, and let the magika flow, formed a flaming ball, and sent it flying at the Thalmor. Lydia managed to get herself situated in the back of the truck, and then slammed a fresh clip into her gun, a high caliber SMG. It was the last clip. She raised it, and fired at the pursuing elves. The rounds knocked the armored elves off their feet, but failed to penetrate the enchanted armor.

It still gave enough time for Vilhelm to jump into the back of the truck. "I only have a few rounds left, and it doesn't seem like they will do much against their armor."

"We just need to get out of here. Help me grab Etienne." Lydia nodded. The truck rolled past the thief, picking up speed, but not in gear yet. The Breton ran desperately trying to keep up. The two in the truck reached out, and managed to grab the man and pull him into the back of the truck. The back of the truck was pretty empty, except for a few gold coins, which Vilhelm pocketed.

"Floor it Delphine." The Breton nodded, and kicked the truck into gear, accelerating towards the front gate. As she approached, more elves began to run out. A fireball hit the road where the truck had just been, sending flames exploding up everywhere. Luckily, the canvas cover on the truck didn't catch fire, soaked as it was with snow and ice.

"Getting a bit toasty in here lads," shouted Etienne. Delphine was about to make a remark, when she noticed the gate beginning to close. She pushed the pedal even further, and the truck crashed through the gate before it could fully close. At least the Imperials built their equipment sturdy. Vilhelm looked back with concern as several Thalmor mounted motorcycles and began chasing after them. He sent an ice spike at one of them, which crashed through the spokes of one wheel, and sent the cycle skidding into a snowbank.

One of the pursuing Thalmor pulled out an ornate pistol and fired. A high caliber round missed the occupants in the back of the truck, and slammed into the divider between the cab and rest of the vehicle. Electricity crackled from the spot, sending sparks flying everywhere.

"Perhaps I should have tried to be a bit stealthier. But it might not have mattered, after they caught Malborn."

"We have been in worst spots my thane. But it will be too soon if we have to fight another troll." Lydia rubbed her jaw, then shouldered her weapon, determined to make the rest of her ammo count.

About that time, Delphine was sure becoming concerned in her ability to keep the truck on the road in these icy conditions, though in Skyrim one expects the roads to be both icy and ill-maintained. She contemplated slowing down, when something forced her to do so. A car pulled out in front, skidding right in front of her.

The car's design and coloring screamed Altmer design, both artistic and sickening at the same time. But the most concerning thing was the large gun pointing out of the back. The Thalmor machine gunner opened up. The Windshield starred, and then began the shatter. It was tough, and probably enchanted, but even it couldn't handle the devastating fusillade. Shards of glass rained down on the Breton Blade. Delphine looked over, and saw several bullet holes in the seat next to her, ice and frost expanding from each.

"Of course they are using enchanted frost rounds. Nothing is ever simple with the Dovakhin."

 _A few hours earlier..._

A rather old and beat up car rattled down the streets of Solitude. It had taken some convincing to get Delphine to agree to let him use her car, but she had relented in the end. It had been a rather long time, and as any true Nord knows, roads without potholes are for the weak. If the trip of this distance had taken place in Cyrodil, it would have been hours shorter. At least nothing crazy had happened on the way.

Lydia looked at the map of Solitude. The old city was a twisting mass of streets, and far too many were one way. The main section of the town was pretty easy to navigate, but if you got off the main road, it could quickly become very confusing. The Castle Dour broke high above the city, an old fortress, transformed for a newer age. With its quadruple AA turrets pointed skywards and gleaming barrels of powerful artillery protruding from ancient stone walls, topped with barbed wire, it was either a symbol of comfort and Imperial protection, or a symbol of despair and Imperial oppression.

"Turn left up here. The Winking Skeever should be right over there." Vilhelm nodded at Lydia's direction, and made a quick turn. Wet slush sprayed up under the tires, and splattered a few patrolling legionnaires, earning some glares. Vilhelm just smiled and waved. "You know, you are allowed to slow down a little before turning, my thane."

"Where is the fun in that?"

"We don't need a traffic violation. This is a mission that requires subtlety."

"I can be subtle...I just choose not to. Ah, there it is. The Winking Skeever. Hopefully, they serve more than just skeever. I'm not really a fan, even if the skeever has personality."

"A creative name brings in more customers."

"So, who are we supposed to meet?" asked Vilhelm, as he pulled the car up and attempted to park on a street, and failing miserably. Lydia glanced at the note Dephine had scribbled.

"Malborn, a Bosmer who works at the embassy." The housecarl looked up. "Well, shall we go in Dovakhin?"

"Let us see what information this tree-hugger has for us."

"Please don't call him that..." The two exited the car, and walked towards the door. Lydia sighed at the parking job, and followed Vilhelm in. The counter was occupied by an Imperial. A scattering of patrons filled the tables, enjoying food and drink. Several Imperial legionnaires were clustered near the jukebox. Several local girls were nearby, trying to get the soldiers attention, not that it was difficult. At the moment, the jukebox was playing a pro-imperial ballad.

In the corner, Vilhelm noticed a Bosmer, who looked extremely skittish. "I am pretty sure that is our man, or elf. I'll go have a chat." whispered Vilhelm, not very quietly.

"Of course." Lydia glanced around, but no one was staring too suspiciously at them. "I'll be over at that table, getting some food."

"Order me a drink. I don't care what kind, as long as there is a lot of it."

"Of course, my thane." Lydia walked over and sat down, only a short distance from the elf. Vilhelm went joined the Bosmer.

"Delphine sent me. So I assume you are Malborn the tree elf?"

"We prefer the term Bosmer or wood elf. I don't have much time." The elf glanced around really nervously. "I can't be gone to long."

"Well, I will make this quick. But before, we get started, I need to take care of something." Vilhelm got up, and walked over to the jukebox. He pulled out a few septims and dropped them in the machine, and selected a different track. The soldiers glared at him, but didn't do anything. Soon, the room was filled with a new version of the old ballad "The Dragonborn Comes." Vilhelm went and sat back down.

"This is my favorite song." He paused a second, and then whispered to the elf, "I'm the Dragonborn you know."

"I don't care if your Mehrunes Dagon, if my boss finds me here, There won't be enough left of me to fit in a burial urn. Now, I can smuggle some stuff in for you, because you won't be able to take anything with you at all. They will catch and confiscate anything that is enchanted. Trust me, not even the head of the Thieves Guild could smuggle in a lockpick."

"Alright, but I might need quite a bit of stuff."

"I can carry a lot, Dovakhin," the elf said, in an almost mocking tone.

"No need to get your branches ruffled. Oh, we might have a small problem. I happen to be wearing the clothes I would like smuggled in." At the nearby table, Lydia sighed. "I'll just be in the restroom. Don't worry, this will be quick."

The Dragonborn returned shortly and handed Malborn a variety of things. The elf placed everything into a satchel, and left quite quickly.

"Wow, he made like a tree and leafed."

"My thane, perhaps you should leave the jokes to a trained bard. I have a drink for you." Lydia slid a large mug of mead over to the Dragonborn, who drained it in one gulp.

"I am hungry. Hopefully, this isn't skeever."

"No, I think it is just beef."

"It doesn't appear to be winking. I guess the winking cow wouldn't get as much attention."

"When do we need to meet Delphine?"

Vihelm looked at the clock on the wall. "Well, I would say, in about ten minutes."

"So, we are going to be late." The two finished eating rather quickly. Vilhelm inhaled his food with a gusto only matched by a werewolf, and the two quickly left, after thanking the innkeeper for the food. Outside, they were fortunate that the car started, and the water in the radiator wasn't frozen. They left the city, driving pas the ancient gate, and into the scattering of suburbs that had sprung up outside the boundaries of the old city.

They soon found the battered pick-up truck of one Orgnar of Riverwood. Standing nearby was everyone's favorite Breton, Delphine, with her characteristically happy demeanor. Meaning she was only slightly annoyed.

"Hey there Sugar lips," greeted the Dovakhin. Delphine sighed.

"If I didn't know better, I would have thought a daedric prince chose the dragonborn just to make my life miserable." She shook her head. "Your late. Did you talk to Malborn?"

"Yes, I gave him all the necessary supplies. So, how are we getting to this party?"

"They will be sending a car and chauffeur. I have your invitation and some nice clothes. Hopefully, the suit fits. Can you tie a bowtie?"

"Of course. I am a classy man. I am most awesome when wearing formal clothes." Neither of the woman were convinced of this, but they had long since learned it was impossible to deflate his ego. Delphine handed Vilhelm the clothes.

"You can change in that storage room. Katla left it unlocked for us." In a short time, the Dragonborn returned, and actually looked rather spiffy. "Not bad. Here is your invitation."

"Vilhelm of Whiterun. You used my real name. Is that a good idea? I am pretty famous as the Dragonborn."

"Your not that well known yet my Thane," commented Lydia. "Let me adjust your bowtie." Lydia stepped up fiddled with it. Delphine continued to brief the Dragonborn.

"Your car is just pulling up. You should arrive in time to be fashionably late. Slip away as soon as you can. We have to find out what the Thalmor know. And feel free to make life a little miserable for Elenwen, after you get what you need."

"So, what is my exit?"

"There are caves under the embassy, some used for sewage and power lines. You can probably exit through there." Lydia stepped back and examined her handiwork.

"You look nearly as handsome as you think you are, my thane. I will try to infiltrate the tunnels and meet you."

"And I will be nearby. I'll try to find a ride," added Delphine. "Probably just commandeer an Imperial vehicle. The Blades are technically high ranking Imperial soldiers. And we won't have to worry about the embassy contacting the Solitude garrison. The telegraph lines are down again. Probably some troll."

"You are quite good at your job, Toots. And by radio?"

"They won't be able to get a message out on the wireless in weather, at least not very clearly. And my name is Delphine. I would appreciate if you would use it. Now, your ride is getting impatient."

"Okay. Can I get a good luck kiss?"

"How about a good luck punch in the jaw?" asked the Blade. Vilhelm got in the car. A Bosmer attendant opened the door for him. Just before the door closed, Vilhelm sent one last barb at Delphine.

"See you on the flipside, Sweets." The limousine pulled away, and wound up a twisting road towards the Thalmor embassy.

"So, do you think he can do it?" asked the housecarl.

"Do what? Stop the dragons? Or complete this mission?"

" Both."

"I don't know about the dragons, but he has talent and skill. And we don't really have a choice. As for this mission, if he can leave the party and get his stuff, he can. But I don't think it will be very stealthy."

The wound its way up a winding road, its headlights barely piercing the gloom. There was a flutter of snowflakes descending, but the road was largely uncovered. The Bosmer attendant skillfully maneuvered the car without incident. Vilhelm sat in the back, enjoying the nice seats. He was actually a little worried about this mission. He wasn't afraid of the Thalmor, though perhaps he should have been. But, this mision wasn't his forte.

He was much more capable of causing a ruckus than avoiding one. He wondered by Delphine would send him, instead of someone more capable and stealthy, but then he remembered her personality. She probably didn't have any friends to call on, not to mention she was busy being in hiding. This mission put her at risk too, but there wasn't much of a choice.

The car arrived, late as expected, but Vilhelm found he wasn't the only late one. Another man had just arrived as well.

"Hello. I see I am not the only one that is a little late."

"The most important guests always arrive last."

"And what importance are you known for?"

"Oh, there are so many things, I don't want to bore you with the details." Vilhelm flexed his arms. "But mostly, I am extremely popular with the ladies." The other man laughed, and offered his hand.

"The name is Razelan, nice to know someone with a sense of humor will be here."

"Vilhelm of Whiterun," replied the Dovakin, and gave Razelan a strong shake. The two walked up to the door, and were let into a small foyer. Even here, Vilhelm was impressed with the architecture. Horrible individuals they may be, but they certainly had a flair for the ornate. Vilhelm was searched first, and it was a little demeaning. But, the guards were satisfied eventually, and the invitation was note questioned.

"Try not to enjoy yourselves too much." Vilhelm winked at one of the guards. He received a very venomous look, but then was allowed into the main hall. Elenwen had prepared a very elaborate reception, certainly to show these human barbarians how superior the elves were. A band was playing live music in the corner. They were singing in elvish, and Vilhelm couldn't help notice how beautiful the Altmer singer was, but was interrupted by the hostess herself.

"I don't recognize you. What was your name again?"

"I'll tell you if you tell me yours."

"I'm Ambassador Elenwen, this is my reception." She seemed a little suspicious, but Vilhelm was certain of his charms.

"Your the Ambassador? I was expecting someone a little older and more...well. Like that," said Vilhelm, motioning to Jarl Ravencrone. "I didn't expect such a lovely creature such as yourself."

"I would keep such thoughts to yourself. But, you have not answered by question."

"Of course. I am Vilhelm of Whiterun. I have a lot of influence across several holds, including Whiterun, of course. I am exactly the type of person you want on your side."

"I see. You do intrigue me, in a very disturbing way."About that time, Malborn walked up, and offered Vilhelm a drink. Vilhelm graciously accepted, and Elenwen was distracted by the arrival of Razelan, who had just then got through security. Vilhelm knocked the drink back.

"Jsut let me know when you are ready to slip away. You'll have to cause some sort of distraction, the guards are watching." Malborn motioned to several Thalmor standing at attention around the room.

"I'll let you know when I'm ready." Vilhelm looked around, trying to figure a way to cause a distraction without being the center of it. Despite being in Skyrim for some time, he didn't know anyone here at the reception, though he had heard of the other Jarls. While he was thinking, he decided to sit down next to Razelan.

"So, my good man, how is the party so far?" asked Razelan, pulling out a cigar.

"Allow me." Vilhelm looked around, and when he saw no guards was looking, let a small burst if flame ignite the end of Razelan's cigar.

"You a mage?"

"I dabble a bit, but I am not particularly skilled. Party isn't too bad, but there aren't enough dames. Could use more drinking too."

"I know. What does one have to do to get a drink around here?"

"Well, I could just ask the twig behind the bar, but I have a better idea." Vilhelm got up, and made his way across the room. A Bosmer girl was walking around, a tray of Colovian Brandy in her hand. Vilhelm walked up, and made sure to make eye contact with her. She stopped, and looked at him.

"Can I give you a drink, sir?"

"How does a fragile Valenwood flower like you end up in this frozen wasteland? Not that I am complaining. You seemed to have bloomed quite well."

"I have other guests to attend to. Please excuse me."

"None as handsome as me, but before you go, can I have a drink?"

"Yes, of course."

"Do your drinks come with a kiss?"

"No, but it may come with a slap."

"Feisty... well, thanks for the drink, but I think I will forgo the slap." Vilhelm took the drink, and the elf hurried away, not at all pleased. Vilhelm returned to Razelan.

"You certainly have a way with women," laughed the man.

"Oh, I can tell, she was quite taken. Here is your drink, by the way."

"Thank you. If you ever need something of me, you have only to ask."

"How good are you at causing a small, non-violent ruckus?"

"Oh. I can be very distracting."

"Excellent. I'll give you a signal. But first, I need a drink of my own." Vilhelm walked over to Malborn. "I think I will have something to drink. A bottle of ale would be nice."

"Of course." Malborn handed the Nord a bottle. Vilhelm opened it up, and drained over half of it.

"Okay, I think I have a distraction ready. I'll signal when I am ready." Vilhelm finished his drink. "Another bottle please."

"Are you sure this is wise? You are about to embark..."

"It helps me think better."

"That is not how alcohol works." Malborn might have protested further, but one of the guards looked at him, and he quickly just handed Vilhelm another drink. Vilhelm drank that, and then turned and caught Razelan's eye. The man got up, and began to make a very loud toast to Lady Elenwen, and her generosity and beauty.

"That is our queue."

"This way." Malborn led the way behind the bar and into the kitchens.

"Malborn, what are you doing back here? Your supposed to be tending the bar." The cook looked suspiciously at the two.

"One of the guests is having trouble with his liquor."

"Yes, crazy elven alcohol, wrecking havoc on my delicate constitution," gagged Vilhelm. He made a retching noise and lurched towards the cook.

"Um, please, get him a potion or something Malborn." The cook scuttled a way, a very disgusted look on her face. Malborn nodded and led Vilhelm into a back room.

"Your stuff is in that trunk. I will leave you a moment to get ready." The Bosmer turned and looked out into the kitchen. The cook, and several other staff were busy preparing more appetizers and drinks, and placing them on trays. When he turned around, he expected to see an armored and uniformed warrior, but instead saw the Dragonborn in another tuxedo, complete with bowtie.

"Where is your armor?"

"Oh, this is enchanted suit." He rapped his dress shirt. "There is armor underneath. And trust me, I am well armed. I like to look my best when infiltrating high class places."

"Whatever you say Dragonborn. Now, this way." Malborn led Vilhelm behind some shelves of supplies and out another door. "This is the interior of the Embassy. Your on your own from here. Elenwen's private office and all the really secret Thalmor stuff is in a building in the center of a guarded courtyard. It looks small, but a lot of it is underground. Good luck."

"Thanks for your help Malborn. Perhaps we will meet again." Vilhelm slipped through the door, and looked at the ornate hallways and even more ornate doors. The fun was just getting started.


	2. Chapter 2

Diplomatic Impunity Part 2

Vilhelm took a second to compose himself. He looked in a conveniently placed mirror, and admired himself for a moment. He adjusted his bow tie. He honestly wondered why he wasn't inundated with proposals of marriage, but he had not seen very many Amulets of Mara since arriving in Skyrim. Maybe they were just intimidated.

He was sure he could accomplish this mission quietly, despite others doubts to his ability. He picked up his briefcase, containing spare ammo and weapons, and a few potions. He felt his heavy pistol in a shoulder holster, and checked his backup revolver tucked in his pants under his coat. Satisfied, he continued a short distance, realizing that there had been two gaurds standing not too far away, though an open door.

They were not paying much attention, but were sitting, enjoying some fancy elven drinks. Vilhelm doubted the drinks were strong enough for a Nord. Both were wearing the blue armor, probably enchanted, feared and hated by all who were not of Altmer race. Vilhelm was stuck by sudden inspiration.

He set the briefcase down, right outside the door, and rushed into the room. In about three steps, he was right behind the guards, and slammed their heads together with substantial force. Both lost their drinks and toppled to the floor.

"Alcohol can give you quite a headache, especially for someone with such a weak constitution as an elf," proclaimed the Dragonborn, a little too loudly. Hearing a Nord voice, another Thalmor popped into view from a stairwell beyond the bar. He quickly raised his hand, lighting and fire crackling around them.

"What are you doing here? How did you get back here?"

"Would you believe looking for the restroom?" The elf raised his hands, and sent a bolt of lightning past Vilhelm's head and into the wall. "No huh? Well, fine, if you insist, there was this rather attractive Bosmer servant I saw. She was totally into me, and I thought, I must speak with her again. I am a man who often gets carried away in the pursuit of love." Vilhelm heard some struggling on the floor behind him and realized that the guards were not as out cold as he had hoped. His plan of being stealthy was rapidly becoming futile dream.

"You lesser races think yourselves so clever. There is no need to bother Lady Elenwen with this matter. We will deal with it right now." The mage raised his arms, still flickering with magika.

"I see. You see me as competition. Fine, the girl is yours."

"Shut up and die Nord." The mage prepared to unleash a blast, but Vilhelm was ready. Even though his arms were in the air, he had a few back up weapons. The Nord through a small knife which had been strapped to his arm. The mage fell back, a knife through the eye. Vilhelm ducked, but the bolt of fire and bolt of lightning went wide and destroyed some of the décor.

"I'm sure Lady Elenwen will appreciate your redecorating efforts." Vilhelm turned and sent a gout of fire into the face of one of the recovering guards. Before he could celebrate, an armored fist smashed into his jaw, and sent him staggering against the wall. The other guard then slammed Vilhelm into the wall, and pulled out an ornate knife. Vlad could see frost forming around the blade as the elf raised it in the air.

Even facing death, Vilhelm was determined to remain as stealthy as possible. A shout or gunshot would be far louder than even the mage's spells. Vilhelm tried to twist away, and the blade went though his shoulder instead of his neck. Even a tough Nord cannot stay silent under such pain. Vilhelm cried out, and his entire shoulder went numb. He could see ice forming around the would, and his own blood staining his jacket.

The elf had been lucky, and the blade had plate armor, nd went though a weaker leather joint. But Vilhelm wasn't done yet. He pulled another knife out from his sleeve, still trying to struggle. The elf was trying to decide weather to let go of the dagger to pin his opponent more securely, or remove the dagger and give his adversary a chance to slip free. Vilhelm made the choice for him.

The Dovakiin slashed the elf across the inside of the thigh, slicing through a major artery. The armor normally would have protected such an attack, but at such close range, Vilhelm had been able to get around it. The elf toppled back, and was dead in seconds. It was not the cleanest kill. As the adrenaline faded, pain slammed into Vilhelm. He managed to remove the dagger and get to his briefcase. A healing potion managed to heal most of the injuries and dissipate most of the pain.

Vilhelm climbed the staircase, and looked out a window. He saw a lone small building in the center of a courtyard. This had to be the place. It seemed his scuffle had so far gone unnoticed, but it wouldn't remain for long. The embassies own thick walls, and enchantments to prevent eavesdropping worked against the security. The courtyard had little cover, no doubt by design. Two guards were in the immediate area, patrolling about, carrying Altmer carbines, a versatile weapon, and were no doubt enchanted.

Since these were Thalmor, and not just standard Aldmeri soldiers, they probably were also using special ammunition, and were quite well trained. Vilhelm could not see the entrance from this angle. He slipped open the door, and closed it. He ducked below a railing, hoping to remain unnoticed, though the railing provided minimal cover. But, he had planned for such an event. Knowing his own lack of stealth, he had brought along an invisibility potion.

Vilhelm drank it down, and watched his own form fade. He rose, and began making his way quickly across the walkways down to the central courtyard. The patrolling guards did not notice him, and Vilhelm began to believe he was quite the stealthy man. But, as he rounded the building, a fireball exploded just behind him.

A Thalmor wizard waited at the door to the Ambassador's study. Despite being invisible, Vilhelm left a trail footprints though the snow, his form breaking though the whirling snowflakes. Acting on impulse, Vilhelm pulled out his gun and fired twice, sending two rounds into the mage, knocking him off his feet.

Vilhelm's armor and enchanted suit took the brunt of the fireball, and left him relatively unharmed. A round whizzed passed his head. He turned, and saw one of the patrolling guards firing at him from one of the walkways around the courtyard. Vilhelm fired back, trying to close the distance. The elf let lose a few more rounds, but decided instead to take cover, though the return fire was not particularly accurate.

The Thalmor believed he had a break when the intruder appeared a short distance away, standing in full view, a conjured sword in his hand, and pistol in the other. The Nord let an empty clip fall from the gun.

"Bring a sword to a gunfight?" smirked the elf. He raised his carbine and prepared to fire. The Nord just smiled, and opened his mouth. The other guard was preparing to fire at the intruder as well. But he was stunned by a sudden noise. The target disappeared from his sights. The elf quickly glanced around. If the intruder was a teleporter, they might need backup.

The other guard was about to drop his prey, when he found himself flying into a railing and crashing though. The force of the shout carried Vilhelm right into the elf, the conjured sword driving though the Thalmor's chest. The two crashed into the snow below. Vilhelm got up off of his fallen foe, and the sword dissipated.

Vilhelm looked up, and saw the other guard firing. Glass rounds slammed into the wall behind him, sending shards crackling with electricity spinning through the air. The elf was moving towards Vilhelm and firing, and it was the only reason the rounds weren't slamming into the Dragonborn. Vilhelm pulled out a new clip and slammed it into his gun, and fired off two carefully aimed rounds.

One went into the elf's leg, sending his next shot wide, and giving Vilhelm an opening to shoot the elf in the face, which he did. Vilhelm got up and recovered his briefcase from where he had dropped it after the fireball incident. He walked towards the door. And then another fireball flew past his head. The mage had gotten back up. The first two rounds had failed to penetrate the enchanted armor.

The mage readied another blast, but Vilhelm was faster. "FUS ROH DAH!" The elf slammed back against the wall of the building. Vilhelm walked up, and stabbed the elf with a knife. The mage slowly sank to the ground.

"Your...the...Dragonborn?" gurgled the elf.

"I am. A real cut above the rest." And Vilhelm opened the door to Solar.


End file.
